


Mickey Milkovich VS Camping

by ghettoassenglishman



Series: Take my hand--Take My Whole life too [22]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Camping, Fluff, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich as Fathers, M/M, Mickey really fucking hates bugs, Tumblr Ask Box Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-21 21:45:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3705619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghettoassenglishman/pseuds/ghettoassenglishman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>" “Mickey get your ass out of the car.” Ian taps on the window, a devious smirk on his lips – that fucker knew Mickey hated outdoors shit, he knew it and took it as an advantage to piss Mickey right off."</p><p> </p><p>Based on Anon Prompt: "I L-O-V-E your fics, so yayyy I have a prompt for you: "Mick and Ian (and if you want a little Yevgeny) go camping!" :) ily, thank you so much!:"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mickey Milkovich VS Camping

**Author's Note:**

> This was so so cute to write, I hope its okay?? I've been pretty ill lol so if its not up to scratch me sorry:'( 
> 
> prompt me: im-an-angel-y0u-ass.tumblr.com

Mickey fucking _hated_ camping, like loathed it entirely. All the times he tried to bring up an excuse not to go, Ian and Yevgeny always managed to persuade him back in again. _It'll be fun, Mick_ They said, _It's summer, it won't be cold._ They said. Now, Mickey was sat inside of the car refusing to get out of his seat due to the humid heat and likeliness he would die stepping out of the car. 

 

“Mickey get your ass out of the car.” Ian taps on the window, a devious smirk on his lips – that fucker _knew_ Mickey hated outdoors shit, he knew it and took it as an advantage to piss Mickey right off. Shaking his head, he leans his feet against the dashboard, Ian leans down and lifts Yevgeny up t the window. “Yeah, Papa, get _out_ of the car!” The black-haired, three-year old whacks his fist against the glass, giggling like an idiot. 

 

“Why couldn't we just stay at home, hell – we could of just put the tent up in the living room, what's the fucking difference?” Even if there was a glass panel between him and outside, he could literally feel the bugs crawling against his skin, already. “I'm not getting out of the car.” He points simply, he had already decided, Ian and Yevgeny could suffer in the small-ass tent, and he could push the seat back and wrap up warm in the hea- the broken heater was preventing it already. 

 

Ian mumbles something to Yev, that Mickey can't yet make out, he lets the little boy to the ground, and whips the car door open. Mickey curls into the seat, trying to push himself away from the summer air, when he feels Ian's large hands grip underneath his body. “Get the fuck  _off_ me Gallagher.” 

 

“No can do.” Ian mutters in a muffled laugh, he grabs hold of Mickey, lifting him effortlessly out of the seat. Mickey wriggles in his arms, nearly choking on a bug as soon as he gets out into the air, he grips to the roof of the car, struggling to keep a grip. “Oh my _god,_ put me down or I'll kick your fucking ass.” 

 

He feels a tug on his shoe, its Yevgeny and he's got the same lob-sided smile as the redhead, some-how he had already inherited that. “No can  _do,_ Papa.” He imitates Ian's words, making the Redhead giggle even more. Mickey pushes against Ian's chest, he turns to his son and raises an eyebrow, it was literally two against one. “Don't you start you little turd.” 

Yevgeny sticks out his tongue, wiggling his fingers, as he runs off towards the pile of camping stuff Ian had laid out in the middle of the grass.

 

“Come on, Mick. It's just like sitting out on the porch, grow some balls.” He walks over to where Yevgeny was, he kicks the car door shut and sends Mickey a swift glare as soon as the brunette elbows him in the chest. 

 

“I've got balls, I don't want them being eaten alive by some fucking..I don't even know what these are!” He swats his neck, killing a fly that had already started nibbling on his skin. “There is only _one_ thing that's aloud to suck on my skin.” He finally gets Ian to loosen his grip, giving into the fact that he was already being eaten alive. 

 

Ian's bends down to grab something out of his bag. “I'm a thing now? - Hey, Yev, why don't you start unpacking the tent and stuff, yeah?” The little boy drops Ian's phone, nodding enthusiastically, which he had tried to get to work despite how many times Ian told him it wouldn't work. Ian turns to Mickey, slamming a fly swatter into his chest.

 

“Who said I was talking about you?” Mickey sticks his tongue into the side of his cheek, already using the swatter against the fuckers forming group around his head. “Where's that spray, we've got to kill _all_ these fuckers.” Mickey wasn't even prepared for the spiders yet. 

 

Ian shakes his head, pulling off his hoody. “You used it all in the car remember? Anyway, you can't kill all of them, just deal with it you big wimp.” When he leans down to grab some tent poles from Yevgeny, Mickey takes it as an opportunity to swat his ass. If he was being pulled into sleeping in a small tent, with rations for meals, he could atleast have fun with it. 

 

The redhead yelps, jolting backwards he jumps for Mickey, his hands trying to grab the swatter from the snickering Milkovich. “You're gonna get it,  _big_ time – Yevy, help me out here!” Ian shouts behind him, already straddling Mickey to grab the stick. The brunette is still tittering, chest heaving at the sight of his boyfriend getting all sweaty and bothered. 

 

Yevgeny runs in, but retreats with the inspiration of Mickey's nod, he launches for Ian's exposed side, his fingers digging in as he started to tickle against the skin. Ian squeals, falling back from Mickey's chest, the three-year old jumps onto his dad, tickling him with a huge smile on his face. Mickey sniggers, watching smugly. 

 

“You little traitor!” Ian gets through his gasping chuckles, he lifts Yevgeny up off himself, his hands firm against the raven-haired boys chest. Yevgeny wriggles from his hold, crawling against the grass, Ian follows and begins to tickle him underneath his arms. “ _Daddy,_ no. Dadd-y, no, stop” He giggles, his little fists trying to pry Ian's hands away from his chest, he giggles, rolling away from the torture. 

 

After it all calms down, Mickey walks over – a can of fly spray in his hand – with a smug smirk, he kicks at Ian's ankle. “Right, come on little man, lets get some wood while your dad tries to build a tent like a jack-ass.” Yevgeny slaps Ian's chest, before running up and following Mickey towards the little forest area. Ian watches from his spot, grinning at the pure cuteness of the two, Yevgeny trying to trip up Mickey, Mickey trying to spray  _every_ single thing he got in contact with. 

 

Nah, Ian wouldn't change this for anything. 

 

–

 

After a while of Mickey and Yevgeny creating the worlds largest pile of sticks, and Ian trying to assemble the advertised “Easiest Tent to build” set, which took over an hours time, thirty minutes later, Mickey had already burnt his hand against the fire. Yevgeny had already tripped and cut his knee, whilst nearly eating poisonous berries. Ian had been hit in the face several times with the fly swatter, he had  _even_ been sprayed in the mouth with the vile defendant that Mickey had found. As it started to grow dark, Ian had already vowed revenge on  _all_ tent manufactures and stopped Mickey from killing other campers on the other side of the field.

 

They were all sat around the lit fire, Yevgeny was curled into Ian's side, his face mashed into the coat Ian had recently wrapped around him. Mickey was cradling a beer opposite, his other hand protectively holding the can that saved him from being eaten, literally  _alive._

 

“Mick, you can put that down now.” There's a slight hiccup of laughter in Ian's tone, something that Mickey wouldn't mind slapping out of him. The redhead scoots up, shifting Yevgeny higher against his chest. “Right, while you try and kill the entire species of flies, I'm going to put him to bed.” Mickey flips him off, sneakily watching as Ian does his dad routine of carrying their little boy to the tent. 

 

After a while, the redhead appears back out of their bed for the night. “Mick...” 

 

“What?” Mickey barks back, chucking his empty bottle behind him into the bushes. Ian sends him a glare for his littering, but the brunette is too at ease, finally, to even give a shit. 

 

“You did pack all _three_ sleeping bags, right?” Ian asks, looking around the side of the tent to see if they misplaced the missing sleeping bag. Mickey shrugs, he didn't even remember what he just ate, never-mind what they packed. “Thought you packed that shit.” 

 

“I asked you to.” Ian huffs out in frustration, he finally gives in sitting himself onto the camping chair next to Mickey. “We're gonna have to share a sleeping bag.” He adds, turning his head to the side to watch Mickey's reaction. 

 

Mickey scowls, making a disgruntled sound. “As much as that sounds fucking tempting, I'm hot as balls already, I don't need you to make me sweat all night.” Rubbing at his forehead, he leans his head back against his seat, only just realising how clear the stars are when they weren't in Chicago. 

 

“I could take that two ways.” Ian giggles, poking Mickey in the arm. “But, tough shit. I ain't waking him up, he'll won't shut up if we do. It ain't my fault you forgot to pack the other sleeping bag.” 

 

“You wanted to fucking come, don't blame me for you're unreliable supervising.” Mickey snarls, grabbing the back of Ian's shirt as the redhead leans down to put the fire out. “Woah, what the fuck you doing?” Ian retreats, a stick awkwardly in his hand. 

 

As usual, Ian's face splits into both confusion and amusement. “I'm putting it out, what you think I'm doing?” He blows on the fire, realising it won't work he goes over to his bag and pulls out a water bottle. Mickey shakes his head, annoyed, Ian pours the liquid against the fire. “Get your ass up we're going to bed.” 

 

“I ain't going to bed.” Mickey smirks, pulling Ian's leg both metaphorically and physically. 

 

“Seriously? You are refusing to go to bed, _you?”_ Ian hums in disagreement, Mickey sends him a nod as he drags Ian's seat to rest his feet on. The redhead mutters a cheap “fine” and walks over to the tent. “Okay then, don't bother trying to get into the sleeping bag later your ass can freeze to death.” Unzipping the tent quietly, he gives Mickey a look of last-chance.

 

“I'll get in there Gallagher, don't you fucking worry.” 

 

“You sure about that?” Ian hovers by the door of the tent. “I can easily beat your ass hands down, you either come now or the blowjob I was thinking of giving you behind _that_ tree in the morning will just be a distant thought.” Ian always knew how to get to his fucking heart, especially when it came down to morning hummers. 

 

Kicking over the chair, Mickey grunts. “Fucking fine, but if you suffocate me I'm getting in with Yevgeny.” He pulls off his jacket and follows Ian into the small tent, for what it was worth atleast he could slightly cuddle with Ian – even if he heated up like a fucking fire. 

 

They end up squished inside the smallest sleeping bag they had, Ian was plastered to Mickey's back and they were finally about to drift off until - “Mickey why the hell have you brought the fly spray in here?” Ian whispers, pulling out the can Mickey had some-how fit in there with them. 

 

“Protection.” Mickey mutters, sleepily. 

 

Ian huffs, chucking it to the side of the tent. “You have me Jackass.” 


End file.
